CS SealeySydney-based sub-editor, writer and author2017-09-20T03:30:51Zhttps://carmelsealey.com/feed/atom/WordPressCarmel Sealeyhttp://carmelsealey.comhttp://carmelsealey.com/?p=5672017-09-12T03:36:11Z2017-09-20T03:30:51ZSome phrases make sense on the surface, such as ‘a blessing in disguise’, ‘go back to the drawing board’ and ‘better late than never’, to name just a few. But there are so many that need a little bit of explanation. In fact, discovering their origins are half the fun and make you greater appreciate the nature of language and the journey it’s taken to its current form.

Stomping ground

‘This was my old stamping ground back at uni.’

The backstreets of the lower market quarter were the stamping grounds of the Barker Gang.

First things first: ‘stomping ground’ has come to us from the British English term ‘stamping ground’. While the latter is still used today, the former is more commonly used colloquially around the world.

A stomping or stamping ground is a place where a certain individual, or group of people, regularly hangs out or spends their time. As an example, in primary school (ages 6-12), you might spend time with your friends at the local library, skate park or playground, waiting for your parents to pick you up. These areas could become your stomping grounds. Likewise, in high school (ages 13-18), you might hang out at the shopping centre, the sports fields or—now this is showing my age—at a local internet cafe, playing multiplayer shooters… One person may have multiple stomping grounds, as each are bound to a different activity.

So where did this phrase come from? This one seems rather straightforward. According to some sources online, the origins of the phrase ‘stamping ground’ dates back to the 1800s and refers to a gathering place for livestock, usually cattle and horses. When looking at a herd milling together at the same area—perhaps around a shared waterhole or a good spot of shade—it’s easy to see how this could then be referred to humans returning to the same ‘haunts’ over and over.

So the next time you visit your old stomping ground, think of cows. Lots and lots of cows.

]]>0Carmel Sealeyhttp://carmelsealey.comhttp://carmelsealey.com/?p=4862017-09-12T07:18:48Z2017-09-12T07:18:48ZUnless you’ve spent time studying Ancient Greek drama tropes and terminology, the words ‘deuteragonist’ and ‘tritagonist’ may sound like a load of old tosh. And in truth, they’re not used all that often—but they exist in pretty much every story you’ve ever read, to varying degrees of strictness. But let’s start off with that first one, the one we all recognise.

protagonist (noun)—the leading character in a story

Identifying your protagonist is normally very easy. If you’re looking at a movie poster or a book cover, it’s probably the face that’s the biggest and in the middle. Think of your Luke Skywalkers, Harry Potters, James Bonds, Elizabeth Bennetts, Jessica Joneses and Katniss Everdeens.

A protagonist isn’t always ‘the good guy’, however, as many famous stories can attest—Hamlet, Heathcliffe from Wuthering Heights, Alex from the first part of A Clockwork Orange and Dr Sheppard from The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, for instance.

And a story isn’t limited to a single protagonist either—just think of The Lord of the Rings being told from multiple different story angles (Frodo, Sam, Aragorn, Faramir, Eowyn, Merry and Pippin), as well as the more recent A Song of Ice and Fire series, which, despite GRRM’s best efforts, still has enough characters left alive to tell a story (such as Jon, Tyrion, Arya, Daenerys, Sam, Cersei, Jaime, Bran, Theon and many others come and gone—not all of them ‘goodies’).

What defines a protagonist, therefore, does have a lot to do with the story that’s being told. It’s hard to sit down and think who is the main character in The Lord of the Rings. Yes, Frodo probably comes to mind, because he’s the one with the Ring, but in terms of who has the most ‘important’ chapters, that’s not so readily obvious, especially after the Fellowship parts ways. Equally true is the case with A Song of Ice and Fire, where each character follows their own storyline for much of the series, none of which seems to be the ‘most’ important. Yes, you may think perhaps Jon is the ‘main’ character because he’s the one who’s been facing the White Walkers for the longest, but like with Frodo, he shares his chapters with so many others equally.

Which brings me to the deuteragonist.

deuteragonist (noun)—the secondary or second most important character in a story

The role of the deuteragonist is often identifiable as a sidekick-like character to the protagonist. If The Lord of the Rings were simply a story about Frodo and Sam and Sauron, disregarding all the (in my opinion) best bits of the series, then Sam would be the deuteragonist. The sidekick role is the helpful companion, someone who aids the protagonist in their struggle in some capacity—perhaps physically, but often intellectually. Take Dr Watson as the deuteragonist to Sherlock Holmes’ protagonist, for example, or Ron Weasley to Harry Potter, Robin to Batman, Eleven to Mike (in Stranger Things) and Spock to Captain Kirk.

Like with the protagonist, however, it really does depend on the story. Not all sidekicks are substantial enough to be worthy of the label of deuteragonist (think Snowy from Tintin compared with the more substantial Captain Haddock, or Abu from Aladdin compared to the Genie).

Nor are all deuteragonists supportive of the protagonist. Many secondary characters who appear to be the protagonist’s friend or a supportive character actually turn out to be hindering them in some way (out of jealousy is a common reason), or reveal themselves to be the antagonist. As some examples, Iago from Othello, Prince Hans from Frozen and Talia al Ghul from The Dark Knight Rises.

In fact, depending on how the story is told, the deuteragonist could very well be the antagonist in plain sight. In Heat, Robert DeNiro plays a thief (our protagonist) and the secondary character in the film is Al Pacino who plays the detective in pursuit. Similarly, it could be argued that the Joker in The Dark Knight is the secondary character in the film, rather than Rachael or Harvey Dent. Also, Hans Gruber in Die Hard fills this role, as does Hannibal Lector from The Silence of the Lambs and Darth Vader.

Now, to the third of our ‘-ist’ trio.

tritagonist (noun)—the third main character in a story

As with the deuteragonist, the tritagonist’s role in the story is very much a case-by-case situation, depending on the story.

Examples of the tritagonist being a secondary sidekick character could be Hermione from Harry Potter (forming a trio of good guys), as could Jessie from Toy Story with both Woody and Buzz, and both Princess Leia and Han Solo from Star Wars.

Tritagonists, however, can also be the antagonist, the evil that the two main characters (and their lesser friends) must fight against. Think LeChiffe from Casino Royale, Doctor Evil from Austin Powers, Kahn from Star Trek: Into Darkness and Gothel from Tangled.

Of course, stories are so beautifully varied that characters don’t really have to adhere to any of the above ‘rules’ or trends, so if you can’t label characters… well, good!

]]>0Carmel Sealeyhttp://carmelsealey.comhttp://carmelsealey.com/?p=5642017-09-11T07:31:37Z2017-09-11T07:31:37ZThere are many phrases which, when looked at on the surface, need a little bit of explaining. To ‘kick the bucket’, for example, or to ‘carry your heart on your sleeve’ and to refer to something as ‘a storm in a teacup’. I am personally fascinated by the origins of such phrases, so I thought I’d look at one that popped up in a podcast I was listening to last week.

Neck of the woods

‘I haven’t seen you in this neck of the woods before.’

This was his neck of the woods, he knew every nook and cranny.

The phrase refers to your area of a country or particular area. So if you are not from ‘this neck of the woods’, then you are not from the immediate area or its surrounds, but from further away.

Now, there are a couple of different claims for the origins of this phrase, but it’s actually a little bit of a mystery.

One is that it comes from a Canada-based Algonquian Native American word ‘naiack’, meaning a certain ‘point’ or ‘corner’ in the land.

Alternate sources have suggested that ‘neck’ had been used in English since the 16th century to describe a narrow strip of land, resembling a neck, usually bordered on both sides by water. Think of, say, an island that is only just joined to the mainland by an avenue of land that is slowly being eroded away by the sea over many years. This then could be applied to other natural formations, such as a narrowing of a forest.

The first suggestion, however, seems more suitable for the origins of this phrase, due to the fact that the phrase itself doesn’t literally mean a neck-like area or landmark. If you are from a certain ‘neck of the woods’, the phrase suggests, you don’t necessarily come from an area of the forest that narrows like a neck—it simply refers to a certain spot where you live. It’s quite a nice phrase, really…

]]>0Carmel Sealeyhttp://carmelsealey.comhttp://carmelsealey.com/?p=5602017-09-11T07:29:04Z2017-07-02T02:39:12ZSometimes, in English, there are words that sprout not just one past participle but two. You may learn one, your friend may learn the other and, at some point, you’ll have an argument about which is correct.

However, annoyingly… both can be correct.

prove (verb)—to show the truth through evidence or argument

The detectives had to prove the man was guilty.

’I will prove to you that I’m not lying!’ he shouted.

With regards to whether proved or proven is more correct, however, the two words can be used more or less interchangeably. For instance:

’It has not yet been proved that Mr Smith is the murderer.’

’It has not yet been proven that Mr Smith is the murderer.’

Yet, of course, there are exceptions and nuances with language. The word proven is more widely used throughout American English use, whereas proved is more dominant in British English. The exception in British English is that, proven is always used as an adjective positioned immediately before a noun. For example:

TLDR: Good tactics win the day, but a good strategy will see the overall campaign succeed.

As a writer of fantasy, there comes the inevitable time where forces collide and a war breaks out. Soldiers vie for space in close-quarters melee, cavalry make sweeps across the battlefield and archers rain down hell from above. The general is either in the thick of it all, leading from the front, or sitting astride his horse on a conveniently nearby hill, watching as his plans unfold.

But what is the difference between these two words: tactics and strategy? When it comes to war, these words are often mistakenly used interchangeably, so let’s pick them apart.

tactics (noun)—the placement of troops on a battlefield and their orders during combat; the specific method in which someone or something goes about achieving a goal, often in business or politics

While the army had won a major victory, the general knew that he could not rely on the same tactics should he meet the barbarians again.

Winning the local election would require that he pay greater attention to the political tactics employed by his opponent.

Tactics can often change on the fly. For example, if the general notices that one flank of his army is beginning to deteriorate, he can move his units around to better strengthen that area. Likewise, if he notices that the enemy has a weak spot, he might order his forces to concentrate their arrows or advance to that spot. In a political debate, a candidate may realise that their strong stance towards a certain topic is producing a negative response from their audience, so they might switch up to a more compassionate approach.

strategy (noun)—a plan of action with a larger goal in mind

It was an ambitious strategy—to move from township to township across the country, engaging everyone in their path until they reached the capital city.

While his many in Mr Smith’s constituency spoke out about Mr Jones’ bad policies, Smith knew that his opponent was as gifted as he when it came to political strategy.

It’s all to do with scale, really. In a campaign, the overall strategy might be to invade a country by going along a certain route, lay siege to its capital and overthrow the monarch. But what happens on the battlefield itself each day comes down to tactics—where to put your soldiers, how many of your reserves you call upon, keep the terrain in mind and the weather conditions. In politics, you try to get yourself elected to parliament and then get your party elected to government; but how you go about doing all that comes down to tactics.

The fluidity that is explained above with regards to tactics isn’t as readily available for strategy, as that would require changing the end goal to some extent. Perhaps the general had hoped to take a shorter route through the mountains in order to reach the capital city, but the defending force has blockaded that route. Despite trying many different tactics, the general might be unable to break through the blockade in order to continue on his way. This might result in a change of strategy—to instead march his forces around the mountains. The plan has now changed. They still mean to head towards the city, but their route is vastly different.

These two words can also be applied to many other things, too. In sport, your coach may have a game plan to win the match, so he puts players on the field, makes interchanges and moves people around as necessary (tactics). Your overall goal as a team might be to win the league or to get through as many knockout stages as possible. Where the strategy comes in is when the coach decides to make you all train twice a week instead of once to make you all fitter, or decides against playing in a knockout competition to focus your attention on winning the league.

So whether you’re on a battlefield (unlikely), in an office or playing your sport under the blazing sun, there’s still a difference between tactics and strategy.

]]>0Carmel Sealeyhttp://carmelsealey.comhttp://carmelsealey.com/?p=5452017-06-02T07:28:36Z2017-04-24T04:10:38Z
Z’ink was a dunmer who had survived the Imperial chop and an attack from Alduin that had decimated the mountain town of Helgen. She was a fearless warrior, though perhaps a little clumsy, who was a master thief and bowman without equal. She was the champion of the weak and the bane of the corrupt, the saviour of prisoners of war and the rescuer of goats—the lattermost title being something of a joke, but undoubtedly true. She was swift as the wind, silent as the stars and as deadly as the cold touch of death himself.

She had stood before the flying wyrms of Skyrim in defiance and had heard the call from the Greybeards. She had climbed the slopes of the Throat of the World, become master of the wind and snow. She had learnt the Words of Power, mastered the Tongue, conversed with dragons and battled the servants of darkness. She had found the ancient Scrolls, travelled through time and survived the fractured vortex. She had walked into Sovngarde itself, summoned the World-Eater, then defeated him.

But she was a dark elf in a country of Nords being torn apart by a civil war. She was an outsider. Yet, she was determined to break down the barriers of prejudice among the coldest and hardest of Nords. She was resolved to change their minds, to prove to them that they had allies outside their own countrymen, that not every race wished to crush their culture and denounce their gods.

So she gave up her destiny to rid Skyrim of dragons. She turned away from the thieves of Riften. She broke her ties with the Blades in Sky Haven Temple. She rejected the neutral stance of the Greybeards. She left her adopted children in the hands of her house karl. She sharpened her dual swords and restrung her bow. She gathered her enchanted arrows and filled her pack with soul gems. Then she sent a message to Ralof of Riverwood and, together, they walked through the great gates of Windhelm.

She met with Jarl Ulfric and pledged her weapons to his cause, to give back Skyrim to the Nords. She spoke the oath to obey and honour the Jarl, to the true High King. She promised to serve and protect her brothers and sisters, ‘til death and beyond. She followed Ulfric’s orders to the letter and, despite her race, he began to trust her with his military secrets. She rose through the ranks of the Stormcloaks, from Unblooded to Stormblade, aiding her Shield-Siblings in the mountains, in the forests, amidst the tundra and in the cities. The citizens of Windhelm knew her name and sang songs of her victories in the taverns. And among those who sang was Angrenor, so-called Once-Honored.
A veteran of the rebellion against the Imperial rule over Skyrim, Angrenor had fallen from his proud place among the Stormcloaks to a mere beggar on the streets. During a fierce fight, he had suffered a strike to the back from an Imperial soldier and been left for dead. Unable to continue the struggle after his wound had healed over, he had moved from profession to profession, but had been turned away from all—he was not the strong man he had once been. On the streets, he had seen men from Cyrodiil, elves and even argonians working in his stead and his frustration had turned to anger at these outsiders, and he blamed them for his woes.

Yet not her—not the Dovahkiin, the Stormblade. Outsider though she was, she was fighting the war he could not and had proven her loyalty time and time again. When she was visiting the city, she spent her nights in the tavern, telling all who cared to listen of her adventures in the snow. She spoke of distant islands surrounded by sheets of ice where wraiths walked. She told of the kingdoms underground, deserted and overgrown with glowing mushrooms as large as trees. She spoke of dragons and Sovngarde, of the Nords of old and how Alduin had been banished for eternity. And night after night, he would stand at the back and listen in awe, equally hoping and dreading that this elf, who defied all his beliefs, would notice him.

And one day, she did.

It was his voice, she told him later, that first attracted her—not the stories of his days as a rebel or the numerous scars that crisscrossed his skin. She could listen to him for hours, she said, just like he could listen to her. They would walk the city streets together in the brief moments she was stationed in Windhelm and not bound to Ulfric’s side. He would pick her flowers, and she would laugh and tell him of their medicinal properties. As the months passed, she visited the city more and more, and he hoped it was because of him.

Before he realised what he was doing, he was looking at rings in the local marketplace, jewels that he could never afford but dreamt of buying her. Sadness gripped him now, for surely the Stormblade would never wish to bind herself to him, for what could he contribute? He was an injured veteran—his youth was behind him, while she was in her prime. He had no home and owned nothing but the ragged clothes on his back and a handful of coins that he spent on bread to fill his belly and mead to drown his sorrows.

And yet, despite his woes, it was her who approached him. She had enough money for both of them, she said, and had bought Hjerim house, so he could have a place to call home. He could buy himself new clothes, he would never again know hunger, he could regain his pride and walk the city streets with his head held high. She had spoken with the priests in the Temple of Mara in Riften, they were happy to perform the ceremony, if he was willing to stand beside her and take the vows. Through tears, he said he was willing.
The Temple of Mara was full that morning. The light shining through the stained glass window fell upon Zin’k as she stood at the altar in her Stormblade robes, proud and nervous. Her friends had come from near and far and her two adopted children stood anxiously beside her. The call came up from the man at the door, the groom had arrived! It was time. The crowd inside were hushed and the bard began her song as the doors opened. Gasps.

Angrenor the Once-Honored had not bought himself a new suit, as she had expected. She had given him the money, so Talos only knew what he had done with it. His feet bare, his face still dirty, he walked up the aisle and took his place beside her and smiled. She raised her eyebrows. The ceremony went on, as though this had been expected of him, but the Dovahkiin kept glancing at her husband-to-be, wondering whether this was some sort of joke.

The priestess proclaimed them to be married and the rings were exchanged. Zin’k leant forward to shake the priestess’ hand, but when she turned back, Angrenor was gone. She looked around in bewilderment. He had left the temple early!

‘Hey, is this another bug? What’s going on?’

This moment made me laugh the first time one of my characters got married in Skyrim, and made me wonder why the devs had not spent a little bit more time working on the ‘romance’ aspect of the game. With hundreds of thousands of gold, the Dovahkin would undoubtedly have given her homeless husband-to-be some money to buy some proper clothes, so the fact he turned up in rags to the wedding was just hysterical.

However, once this happened with all my other characters, I began to realise that, well, this was just another of those funny quirks the game now boasts. Thank you, Skyrim. Many fond memories.

]]>0Carmel Sealeyhttp://carmelsealey.comhttp://carmelsealey.com/?p=5292017-03-19T00:05:06Z2017-03-18T23:37:15Z
The maw hammers tolled in unison, sending shockwaves and a low hum through the ground. Commander Shepard could feel the earth trembling with each hammer fall and peered out from behind a ruined pillar. The bug-like Reaper was still circling the Shroud, protecting the distribution of its poison into the atmosphere. Its red eye scanned for the source of the disturbance, the ground shaking with each step. Its pincer-like legs brushed aside the crumbling Krogan architecture like dead leaves and, at a shout from Garrus, Shepard threw himself out from behind the pillar and rolled to cover as one of the Reaper’s legs hit the pillar and sent it toppling to the ground.

Shepard slid into cover beside the prothean soldier and looked, but the dust rising from each of the Reaper’s steps had veiled the surrounding landscape around the base of the Shroud.

‘What is it?’

But his question was soon answered. There was another tremor, but this time not from the hammers or from the Reaper. This was a long, sustained rumbling that was progressively growing stronger by the second. Loose rocks and bits of debris all around them were shuddering, and whatever Javik had spotted had clearly also drawn the Reaper’s attention.

The ancient machine uttered its soul-shattering war cry, a low blast of terrifying sound, and manoeuvred its body to face the oncoming threat. There was an explosion of earth and the mother of all thresher maws, Kalros, burst from the ground, its pincers wide, its savage jaws open and angry. The Reaper fired but the thresher maw collided with its metallic shape and clung on tight, sending the Reaper’s laser firing perilously close to Shepard’s position.
‘Move! Move!’ he shouted.

The red beam sliced through a raised walkway, then the huge shape of Kalros’ body came crushing down, decimating what once may have been a road. The team leapt across a ruined bridge and scrambled up the opposite side of a narrow ditch as the two leviathan shapes battled above them. The Reaper’s war cry blasted angrily as it tried to shift the hold of its long centipede-like attacker but Kalros held it tight. Struggling, the Reaper shook itself violently and swung the thresher maw hard against the Shroud itself. Kalros released a piercing cry and its hold on the metal bug slackened. Its tentacles retracting in pain, the giant monster retreated back underground.

No! Shepard thought, despairing.

They had worked so hard to get the hammers working, summoning the giant legend to help them against the Reaper. Now the ancient machine was repositioning itself defiantly in front of the Shroud once more, its red eye searching from side to side for any further sign of trouble.

‘What now?’ Garrus asked. ‘We can’t get to the Shroud with that thing still there.’

‘Wrex,’ Shepard said into the comms, ‘is there another way to the Shroud from our position?’

‘At the end of the—’

The earth shuddered dramatically once more and Shepard, Javik and Garrus all lost their footing. Shepard spun around and looked in the direction of the Shroud to see Kalros rearing out of a new explosion of dust and debris, its bloodied tentacles fiercely lunging towards the Reaper once more. Caught by surprise, the Reaper crumbled under the weight of the thresher maw and its steady hold on the ruined city was gone. Its laser fired once, twice, three times, but the shots all missed its attacker. Kalros spun its huge body around the downed machine, twisting and crushing it like a snake, its smaller legs holding the monstrous metal body secure. Explosions erupted across the Reaper’s body and red lightning flickered outwards from its laser-like eye as Kalros squeezed it and dragged it under the ground.

‘Good enough for you, Shepard?’ Wrex’s voice broke through the comms, followed by a laugh.

‘It’ll do!’ Shepard replied. ‘Okay, Javik, Garrus—get back to the truck, I’ll take care of the cure! Go!’

The turian hesitated, but then nodded and hurried off towards the raised skyway with Javik. Shepard turned towards the Shroud, which was still emitting its poison into the atmosphere, took a deep breath and broke into a run.

When he reached the control centre at the base of the tower, Mordin was already there, furiously typing on a terminal. Above them, small explosions were breaking out across the Shroud’s exterior.

‘Mordin, is the cure ready?’ Shepard asked.

The salarian glanced towards him, but then returned his gaze to the terminal.

‘Yes. Loaded for dispersal in two minutes. Procedure traumatic for Eve, but not lethal. Maelon’s research invaluable.’

‘She’s okay?’

‘Heading to safety now. Her survival fortunate. Will stabilise new government should Wrex get any ideas. Good match, promising future for krogan.’

There was a great boom from above and a piece of the damaged Shroud came toppling down close to the terminal. Shepard shouted in surprise and alarm, and looked up at the tower. It did not have long.

‘Control room at top of Shroud tower. Must take elevator up,’ Mordin said, barely flinching.

‘Mordin, this whole thing is coming apart!’ Shepard argued. ‘There’s got to be another way!’

‘Remote bypass impossible,’ Mordin said, looking up at the tower. ‘STG countermeasures in place. No time to adjust cure for temperature variance.’ He paused and his large eyes looked back at Shepard. ‘No. No other option. Not coming back. Suggest you get clear. Explosions likely to be problematic.’

The salarian strode over towards the lift.

‘Mordin, no!’ Shepard cried, going after him.

‘Shepard, please. Need to do this,’ the scientist said, turning back. ‘My project. My work. My cure. My responsibility.’ He closed his eyes and sighed, somehow managing a smile. ‘Would have liked to have run tests on the seashells.’

Shepard shook his head, but did not try to convince his friend any further. He knew Mordin well enough to realise that his mind was set.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said instead.

‘I’m not,’ Mordin said. ‘Had to be me.’ He turned and engaged the lift. The screen came down, and the salarian turned back to look at Shepard once last time. ‘Someone else might have got it wrong.’

The lift began to rise and Shepard watched it go until his friend was out of sight.

Glancing back, he saw the lift reach the top of the tower. He began to run. As he leapt over the debris and ran as fast as he could back to the skyway, he heard Mordin’s voice through the comms.

‘Ah, classic bypass. Standard failsafes. Excellent work. Yes, yes.’

Shepard began to hear humming and then, as the signal began to break up, words of the scientist’s song.

‘I’ve studied species turian, asari and batarian…’

‘Temperature now in acceptable range,’ said the VI.

He ran on, his eyes clouding with tears. He could see the skyway up ahead and a convoy of trucks. Garrus and Javik were there, waiting for him.

‘Dispersal commencing.’

Shepard looked up and saw a mist with a yellowish hue now spreading out from the top of the spire, replacing the Reaper’s poison. It spread quickly and wide across the sky.

‘Genophage cured, krogan free. New beginning… for all of us,’ Mordin said.

Shepard felt the earth tremble as he continued to run. More explosions began to dot the exterior of the Shroud. Up ahead, he could see Wrex getting out of one of the trucks.

‘My xenoscience studies range from urban to agrarian…’ the scientist sang to himself. ‘I am the very model of—’

An explosion ripped through the control room at the top of the tower and the comms signal went dead. Shepard ground to a halt and looked back. The top of the Shroud was aflame. The cure was still defiantly spreading across the sky even as the tower disintegrated.

Farewell, Mordin.

Particles began to fall around him as the cure was dispersed. It was like snow. He reached out and a piece fell into the palm of hand and disappeared. Behind him, he heard cheering—the krogan celebrating their freedom, their hope and their new beginning. The cure that the salarians had manufactured and the turians had helped to disperse many years before was now no more—and both turians and salarians had given their lives to make it happen.

The Mass Effect trilogy is, hands down, my favourite suite of games. The reasons for this are threefold. Firstly, the story, of course. The progression from a simple military commander on a semi-routine mission to literally gathering whole races of galactic species together to face a civilisation-ending threat is amazing, captivating and inspiring. Secondly, the combat. I’m not a huge fan of shoot ’em ups, so the fact that I actually enjoy the combat systems in this game is quite a feat. The way you can weave shooting together with biotics and tech skills means each fight isn’t just a mindless jaunt down a corridor, shooting and throwing grenades. Your team works together, their skills complementing yours, and when you pull off a biotic combo and see your enemies dramatically expode mid-air, there’s nothing more satifsying, in my view. The final reason is the characters. I will unashamedly admit that playing Mass Effect feels like hanging out with friends. (I do actually have real friends, by the way, so don’t say that’s sad!) The characters are so deeply crafted, they have their own individual mannerisms, they make jokes, they’re sometimes hard to strike up a conversation with, they’re tragic, they’re annoying and they’re your bros—just like with real people.

But what about this scene in particular?

One of the best things about the story of Mass Effect is how you can craft it. Yes, you’ll always be facing down Reapers at the end—nothing you can do can change that—but how you get there is extremely important. Moral choices are peppered through each mission: Do you kill this person because they’re blocking your way, or do you let them live and take the long route? Do you try to convince your friend not to punch someone in the face, or do you egg them on? Do you allow your buddy Mordin Solus to sacrifice himself to save an entire species or do you convince him to pretend he’s released the cure, save his life, and then risk your fragile alliance with the krogan? There are many choices in the series that leave me paralysed, but this one was different. The answer was obvious—cure the krogan. And that meant saying goodbye to one of my favourite companions, but I console myself with the knowledge that Mordin would have wanted to go out this way. Sniff.

TLDR: Sympathise means to feel sorry for someone, empathise means to understand and agree with them.

Though only a few different letters separate the two, there’s actually quite a significant difference between the words sympathy and empathy, or sympathise and empathise. As you may have guessed, however, they do share the ending ‘-pathy’ or ‘-pathise’, which is derived from the Greek word pathos meaning ‘feeling’. So we’re looking at two words which involve emotions, but what’s the difference?

sympathise (verb)—to feel or express feelings of sorrow for another’s misfortune or situation

’It’s not hard to sympathise with such a tragic character. If there was only something we could do for him.’

empathise (verb)—to understand and share the feelings or opinions that others also have

’While I empathise with your situation, constable, I must also do my duty.’

One way to explain the difference is to imagine yourself watching a movie. The screenwriter creates a character so realistic and relatable that the viewer empathises with them when they must make a tough decision. The level of empathy dished out to the character is a reflection of the viewer’s experiences and character, in many ways—for if the character in the film is a policeman forced to decide whether to chase down a mass murderer (leaving his latest victim to die) or help the victim (and let the murderer get away to potentially kill another person), a policeman viewing the film is more likely to understand the predicament and empathise more acutely.

In contrast, sympathy is expressed more readily by a broader range of people. If you see a distressed child crying for her mother in a supermarket, you will feel sorry for her (hopefully) and try to reunite her with mum. Similarly, if your friend just lost his job or your son is getting bullied at school, causing them to feel sad, then you will most likely sympathise with them (as well as potentially empathising with them)—give them a hug and talk them through their woes.

]]>0Carmel Sealeyhttp://carmelsealey.comhttp://carmelsealey.com/?p=4762017-02-11T05:21:06Z2017-02-06T06:06:16ZJust as my previous post saw many changes to my favourite heroic characters, my opinion of ficticious villains has also changed over the past few years. What is a villain? When we think of antagonists in fiction, we might think of the obvious ones like Lord Voldemort and Sauron, or the evil mutated scientist from that computer game/movie/TV series with all the zombies… But I’m not really interested in the stereotypical ‘dark lord’ figure—a character who appears to be in the hero’s way simply as a plot mechanism. These villains are often two-dimensional, lacking depth and real motivations. And while I love the Harry Potter series to bits, I’m still not quite sure why Lord Voldemort didn’t just go into politics instead of plunging the whole wizarding world into war. Twice.

So here we go again. The following characters are the villains who have had great personalities, true motiviations or have made me stop to wonder: who are the real villains here? My original villains post can be viewed here, but like I said, I don’t entirely agree with it anymore.

DISCLAIMER: There will be plot-related spoilers referring to the characters I have chosen.

Pe Ell—The Heritage of Shannara series

Death frightened most people, but not Pe Ell.

The first time I read The Heritage of Shannara was also the first time I read a book (or part of a book) from an antagonist’s point of view. This was an unexpected but pleasant surprise because I loved reading the thoughts of the assassin who was planning to kill one of the other main characters. It’s great to read a thoroughly developed antagonist with his own thoughts and feelings, motives, doubts and fears.

The best part about him was that, at the end, he decides he doesn’t actually want to kill his target. There’s also an element of tragedy here for Pe Ell because, while his character arc was very powerful, he was manipulated into killing his target anyway, so the other characters in the story continued to think ill of him and are not sorry to find that he had been killed (by an invisible plot device/monster thing that, to this day, I think was a really cheap move). This left me feeling very hurt, and stories that can do that are rare and wonderful things.

Kingpin/Wilson Fisk—Daredevil

‘I realised that this city was a part of me, that it was in my blood, and I would do anything to make it a better place for people like you.’

Hell’s Kitchen is the setting for Marvel’s Netflix series Daredevil in which a (slightly bland) blind lawyer dons a mask and beats up bad guys by night and shuffles papers by day. The best thing about this series (apart from its production quality and acting, that is) is the character of Wilson Fisk, aka Kingpin. About as much time is given to fleshing out the villain as is given to the hero, making him a believable and, frankly, likeable man. True, he does kill a lot of people and his plans for Hell’s Kitchen upsets many more, but his intentions are good. His methods are what make him the bad guy here.

How did he become such a powerful crime lord? We see him struggling through his childhood, being bullied at school and then being forced to violent revenge by his father. He killed his father to protect his mother and the two of them cut up and hid the body. After piecing together such a tragic figure, it’s no wonder that, when we see him later as an older man, we’re glad he’s apparently risen above such a traumatic childhood. Problem is, he hasn’t. His present is shaped by his past, he can’t escape the man he has become, and it’s the vulnerabilities in his character that make him so relatable.

When he clashes with Daredevil, we know we should be rooting for the perfect, blind, Catholic, lawyer superhero standing up for the little guy—but whenever Fisk gets away, we can’t help but cheer. Maybe don’t smash that guy’s head repeatedly in your car door? No? No. Okay…

The Joker—Batman

‘I believe whatever doesn’t kill you simply makes you… stranger.’

Very dangerous, a total nutter, unpredictable, cunning, ruthless and wild, the Joker is Batman’s greatest nemesis. Though the Joker has many origin stories, the most common in the canon is that he falls into a tank of chemical waste, which causes him to lose his mind. This accident also turns his hair green, his skin bleached-white and his lips an unnatural red. This is the Joker we see portrayed by Jack Nicholson and Jared Leto. The origins of Heath Ledger’s Joker (and almost all of Mark Hamill’s renditions), however, is a complete mystery.

Why do I like the Joker so much? He isn’t your usual ‘I want to take over the world and look down upon you from my throne made of cash’ sort of bad guy. He also doesn’t concoct stupidly complicated traps to capture or torture Batman, like a villain from the Bond universe might do. In fact, he’s arguably not interested in killing Batman at all. He simply enjoys the thrill of the chase, the challenge and the mayhem. The fact that he’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic is the reason why he’s so interesting—you never know what he might do next, and he probably doesn’t even know himself, or why.

The Shadow—A Wizard of Earthsea

Light and darkness met, and joined, and were one.

Often, a villain reveals something about the hero, about which the hero was previously unaware. The Shadow is one of these villains. While not actually being much of a ‘character’ per se, it first appears when main character and wizard Sparrowhawk is naughtily looking through an advanced book of magic in his master’s collection. He wants to impress a girl he’s just met and so chooses a spell that turns out to be too powerful for him to control. It goes terribly wrong and the Shadow is born.

Despite being banished for a short time by his master, it becomes evident later on that this strange entity is linked to Sparrowhawk in a way he doesn’t initially understand. No other wizard can tackle this terrible beast except Sparrowhawk himself because, as we discover later, the Shadow is a part of him. At first, he tries to run, but in doing so, the Shadow kills one of his friends, making him realise that he is just delaying the inevitable. He is going to have to face this thing alone. The Shadow makes you look within yourself and think about your darker side and how best to tackle it. The decision for Sparrowhawk to leave the safety of Roke takes great courage, knowing full well what lies out there somewhere… waiting for him.

The Phantom—The Phantom of the Opera

‘Can you even dare to look, or bear to think of me—this loathesome gargoyle who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven…’

The Phantom was a misshapen child who broke free of a circus and went to live in the bowels of an opera house in Paris. He became an architect, inventor, musician, composer and tutor and would have been famous for it had it not been for his deformity. Society shunned him and so he hated the world, until a grieving child—Christine—was brought to his opera house. From then on, he made it his life’s goal to train Christine to sing and used his knowledge to write, design and compose an opera in which she would star.

Living in the dark for years in seclusion did nothing to improve his opinion of the outside world and the people in it, so when the members of the opera house turned against him (out of fear of him), he reacted in the only way he knew how, through violence and cunning. His character is so well developed that you pity him and understand how he feels and why he does what he does. Also who couldn’t love a mysterious guy in a cape who lives by an underground lake, plays music to you while you sleep, writes melodies for you by the light of numerous candelabra and has a shrine of you in his bedroom topped with a life-size model of you in a wedding dress…? He also gets the best songs in the musical.

GlaDOS—Portal

‘Despite your violent behaviour, the only thing you’ve managed to break so far is my heart.’

Mean, witty and malicious, the main antagonist from the extremely clever game Portal actually goes unseen for about 95% of the story. As you make your way through the seemingly endless test levels in the Aperture Science Enrichment Centre, GlaDOS’s voice instructs and guides you, as well as pokes fun at you before giving way to simply threatening you (comically) with various methods of death because you didn’t die, as planned. But GlaDOS isn’t simply an artificial intelligence that doesn’t like the fact you’ve outwitted her.

In Portal 2, her character is fleshed out, as it were, and you discover what she truly is—that she was once the thing she despises most: a human. This initiates a character arc in which GlaDOS aids you in your struggle against an even greater adversary, and your second chance at freedom from Aperture Science.

Magneto—X-Men

‘Better that we die on our feet than live on our knees!’

None of the above examples better demonstrates the Shakespearean idea that there is no good or evil, that only thinking makes it so. The reason why Magneto (Erik Lehnsherr/Max Eisenhardt/all the other names he’s had) inspires such a following in the X-Men universe is that, while he does have questionable methods most of the time, his overall goal is a noble one. One of the most powerful ‘mutants’ ever born, Magneto believes that he and his brethren are not actually ‘mutants’ at all, but rather the next step in human’s evolution: “homo superior”—and he’s probably right. He’s sick of how he and his kind have been treated by common humans—experimented upon, used, abused, discriminated against and murdered—and makes it his life’s mission to encourage this evolution, by forcefully putting homo superior on top.

His fight ignites the “one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter” argument, and indeed, he is truly fighting for the freedom and advancement of his own people, but he chooses the path of violence, making him a villain in the eyes of most. And that is why he is such a great antagonist—you can understand his motivations. He is not just a man out for power, glory or wealth—he is fighting for the freedom of many from cruel suppression in a world where he and his kind are feared and mistrusted.

]]>0Carmel Sealeyhttp://carmelsealey.comhttp://carmelsealey.com/?p=4632017-02-06T06:05:21Z2017-02-06T05:20:44ZFor long-time readers of my material (and those who know me personally), the subject of what exactly constitutes a ‘hero’ is a familiar one. I have already voiced my opinions about this subject three years ago, but reading it now… I disagree with some of my choices. Rather than simply deleting the original article and starting again, I think it’s interesting to keep both (and any future) articles to see what has changed.

The following characters have had a lasting impact on me as a writer, either due to their actions or purely their personalities. So in no particular order, here are my heroes for 2017.

DISCLAIMER: There may be be plot-related spoilers referring to the characters I have chosen.

Batman/Bruce Wayne—Batman

‘It’s not who I am underneath but what I do that defines me.’

The secret identity of billionaire Bruce Wayne, Batman has captured the imagination of every generation since his creation. Sometimes referred to as the Caped Crusader or the Dark Knight, he prowls the streets of Gotham City by night, intent on foiling criminal activities in an entirely non-lethal manner. That’s not to say he doesn’t pack a powerful punch or break a few legs on the way. This DC hero has no supernatural abilities up his sleeve, unlike his sometimes-rival-sometimes-ally Superman. Instead, he relies on his keen eyes, sharp mind and an arsenal of amazing gadgets, weapons and vehicles.

Everyone has their light and dark sides and Batman dramatises both well. Bravery, morals, strength and a fierce intelligence combine to create a complex character simply brimming with reasons to like and empathise with him. He perfectly demonstrates that heroes don’t have to lap up the limelight, they can often be hated or feared by the general public, who don’t understand how much good he really does for them while they sleep.

Corvo Attano—Dishonored 1–2

‘Forgiveness isn’t my specialty.’

Finding a quote for the once-silent protagonist of Dishonored was rather tricky, let me tell you. Luckily, our mate Corvo is back in Dishonored 2, with a voice no less, and while I have yet to play through the game as the Royal Protector (I just finished my first play through as Emily), I expect to play the character exactly in the same way as I did in the first game.

Corvo Attano was framed for the murder of his lover, Empress Jessamine Kaldwin, in Dishonred and spent the entire game trying to do away with the usurpers of the crown and track down those who had betrayed him and kidnapped his daughter, Emily. Depending on how you played the game, Corvo was either a merciless force of vengeance, killing his targets upon meeting them; or a master of the shadows, manipulating and neutralising his targets in various non-lethal ways—my favourite being when you’re given the opportunity to befriend gang leader Slackjaw who will then abduct your two targets, cut out their tongues and throw them in a mine to work as slaves.

With me pulling the strings, Corvo Attano was no assassin, though he had all the tools of the trade—he was simply a wronged man who was trying to get his daughter safely back onto the throne, and he put himself in danger time and time again to do it. In the time of the Rat Plague, Dunwall brought out the worst in people, but Corvo rose above it all and cleared out the corruption—for the memory of the dead Empress, for his daughter and for the common folk of the Empire.

Maximus—Gladiator

‘I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next.’

His life shattered by circumstances beyond his control, the only thing remaining to him is vengeance. From respected and honourable Roman general to expendable slave, Maximus is driven by a sense of revenge along the long and painful road to Rome, where the man who killed his friend and ordered the murders of his wife and son sits upon the throne as Emperor.

Why do I like Maximus so much? The story of Gladiator shows that characters don’t always have to be in control of their journey. Instead of driving the storyline from location to location, their strength of character comes from how they react to the events that transpire in their lives. Maximus rises above his grief and decides to become the best fighting slave in Rome in order to come face to face with the Emperor and that’s what makes him a strong character. When he has nothing left and is resigned to die, he decides to do one last thing—but his quest to kill the Emperor isn’t simply a selfish one: his family is dead, nothing can bring them back, but he believes he needs to save Rome from the Emperor and reinstate the power of the Senate.

Mulan—Mulan

‘You shouldn’t have to go. There are plenty of young men to fight for China!’

(This story varies somewhat, depending on the version, but I first met Mulan in the Disney version.) Set in Mediaeval China, Mulan goes off to war to prevent her father, who is old and carries an old injury, from going off to war and probably getting killed. She steals her father’s armour, cuts her hair and impersonates her fictitious brother in order to become accepted into a recruit army. At first, she is weak and quite hopeless, like many of the other recruits, and a confrontation between herself and her captain, Li Shang, motivates her to try harder, as failure would bring dishonour to her family. Her strength of character, as well as in body, enables her to pass her initial training and she joins the army to go off to war and consequently becomes a champion.

I admire her because she is risking her life to save her father and trying her best to bring honour to her family, but not only that—she wants what all the other soldiers want: to save China.

Commander Shepard—Mass Effect 1–3

‘I’m going to do what you brought me back to do. I’ll fight and win this war without compromising the soul of our species.’

Commander (insert first name here) Shepard is a human—an unpopular race in the universe of Mass Effect, one that other races resent for their greediness and false sense of entitlement. We first meet the Commander on a mission that, thanks to Mass Effect 1‘s antagonist, goes horribly wrong. On the hunt for answers, Shepard gathers a crew of talented aliens and stumbles across an ancient race of machines intent on destroying the galaxy. Despite the mistrust and denial of the galaxy’s most senior authorities, Commander Shepard and co thwart the Reapers’ plans, not once, not twice but three times across the series. There are countless situations that demonstrate Shepard’s bravery and heroism, not least of all is the final endgame moment where you can sacrifice you life to destroy the Reapers for good.

Just like Corvo Attano, the character of Commander Shepard reflects your choices in the game, but regardless of your dialogue or moral choice decisions, you will still be at the forefront of the fight against the Reapers with the aim to save the galaxy. Personally, I enjoy the odd jaunt down the renegade Shepard road (mainly because certain situations need a firm and decisive hand), but I always end up playing as a paragon for the simple reason that that version of Shepard is the one that feels truest to me. Commander Shepard is fierce, brave and strong, but also compassionate. He/she is not fighting simply for him/herself or the human race—he/she is fighting for life itself, the billions of humans and aliens that now live and will live in the future. Can’t really get more heroic than that.

Harry Potter—Harry Potter series

‘There’s a reason I can hear them… the Horcruxes. I think I’ve known for a while. And I think you have too.’

If you haven’t read the Harry Potter series (or at least seen the eight main movies—yes, including the fourth one), then I suggest you do so now, because this is a story that will move you. After the death of his parents, baby Harry was begrudgingly taken in by his aunt and uncle, and for 11 years, he suffered humiliation from his cousin and cruelty from his aunt and uncle. When it was discovered that he was a wizard, however, Harry’s journey from nobody to the hero of the wizarding world is long, believable, and full of wonder, loss and many acts of bravery. At first, he seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time over and over again—acting simply to keep him and his friends alive—but as his character develops, he begins to understand that he needs to involve himself because, if he doesn’t, nobody else will and he knows that, to others, he is a leader who inspires bravery.

The most heroic act that he performs (in my opinion, at least) is when he realises that Lord Voldemort cannot be destroyed unless he, Harry, allows the Dark Lord to kill him. He walks to his death willingly—afraid, yes, and of course with sadness that he will never see his friends again—but he also knows that his sacrifice will mean that everyone he leaves behind will have a chance of defeating Lord Voldemort and his followers, and living free. In the truest sense of the word “hero”, he gives up his own life so that others might live. Good boy.

Garrus Vakarian—Mass Effect 1–3

‘If you don’t respect your enemy’s capabilities, you’re in for one nasty surprise after another.’

There’s something quite special about this NPC. As a young turian, Garrus followed in his father’s footsteps and became a member of C-Sec, the law enforcement agency on the Citadel—the centre of galactic civilisation—in the Mass Effect series. Always willing to go further than duty dictates, Garrus winds up investigating a rogue Spectre agent, Saren, despite being told that the investigation has been closed. He teams up with Commander Shepard and co, and sees the villain brought to justice. But that’s just the beginning of his story.

At the beginning of Mass Effect 2, Garrus has become a notorious vigilante on the crime-infested space station-cum-asteroid Omega. He and his team risk life and limb to pick off the various mercenaries making life hell for the residents of Omega, leading to the creation of his nickname Archangel. He and Shepard reuinte and he agrees to step up, once more, to help save countless lives in the mission to save the galaxy from the Reapers.

But what makes him different to the other crew members? They, after all, also accompany Shepard on his/her mission and risk their lives. Well, I think the answer to that lies in his character and his choices. After quitting C-Sec (due to the amount of red tape that was preventing him from investigating Saren), he didn’t find another job in law enforcement, try out for the Spectres or join the turian army. He became a vigilante and sought out criminals. On a larger scale, he was helping Shepard save the galaxy (again), but when he’s not in Shepard’s shadow, he’s just as willing to put himself in harm’s way to make the galaxy a better place.

Other worthy mentions:
Jon Snow—The Song of Ice and Fire series
Neo, Trinity and Morpheus—The Matrix
Eowyn and the Fellowship—The Lord of the Rings
Luke Skywalker—Star Wars
Nancy—Oliver Twist